


Wisdom From Your Mouth, Darling

by yukiawison



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sparrow Academy (Umbrella Academy), Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I just wanted to see the boys bond I’m sorry, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Wisdom Teeth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:26:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28202319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yukiawison/pseuds/yukiawison
Summary: Dolores, Dave, and Five’s wisdom teeth.“Come on, Five. Open up.”“I’m emotionally stunted, re: 40 years in a post-apocalyptic wasteland. I don’t open up,” Five said.Klaus smirked. “I meant your mouth,” he said.“Oh,” Five said. He opened his mouth.
Relationships: Dolores/Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy), Klaus Hargreeves/David "Dave" Katz, Number Five | The Boy & Klaus Hargreeves
Comments: 11
Kudos: 179





	Wisdom From Your Mouth, Darling

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I distracted myself from my WIP to write this. Yes, I also sought guidance from my friend who has had her wisdom teeth out because I never did. (Thanks Erin.)

“What are you looking at?” Five said, pressing the ice pack to his cheek and glaring at Klaus across the kitchen table. 

“What’s wrong?” Klaus said. He was eating a bowl of Captain Crunch and staring at the first flakes of snow outside. “Did someone beat you up? I thought we didn’t do that anymore.”

Five rolled his eyes. His mouth was throbbing, a painful pressure that had kept him up all night with a headache. The ice stung but numbed the side of his face enough to be bearable. “I’m fine. It’s just my...it’s my teeth.”

Klaus’s eyes widened. “I had my wisdom teeth out just before you disappeared. They give you the good stuff,” he said, going a bit glassy eyed. 

“I’m fine,” Five repeated, unconvincingly. The pain was a little dizzying, and he wanted to lie down again. 

“I’ll take you to the dentist...or, I can get Diego to drive us. I can’t drive.”

Five flushed. “I don’t need to get my wisdom teeth out,” he said. He flinched any time someone touched him, how was he supposed to undergo dental surgery? And he wasn’t so keen on the “good stuff” Klaus had mentioned. He didn’t want to be out of it the way people were after they got their wisdom teeth out. He didn’t like to be vulnerable, like that. 

“Five, you look terrible,” Klaus said, shadow of concern crossing his face. 

“Good morning to you too,” Five said. He opened the fridge with his free hand and grabbed the orange juice. He didn’t want to move his jaw to eat. He got himself a glass and poured some. 

“Five,” Klaus repeated. 

Five sipped his juice confidently, his eyes watering as new pain radiated through his mouth. “It’s nothing,” he said. He attempted to teleport out of the room but he was distracted by the way Klaus was looking at him and the headache that was returning. So instead he spilled his orange juice. 

Klaus mopped up the mess with a paper towel and told Five to sit. “Don’t call Diego,” he muttered, keeping his voice low even though they were the only ones home. The others weren’t there. Luther was the only other sibling who stayed in the Academy regularly, though the others visited now that they were more than strangers with shared childhoods. 

“Why not?” Klaus said, crouching in front of him. He took the ice pack from his hand. “Come on, Five. Open up.”

“I’m emotionally stunted, re: 40 years in a post-apocalyptic wasteland. I don’t open up,” Five said. 

Klaus smirked. “I meant your mouth,” he said. 

“Oh,” Five said. He opened his mouth. 

Klaus inspected Five’s teeth for a moment. “Yep, it’s wisdom teeth. Your jaw hurts doesn’t it? And it hard to chew anything?”

Five nodded. “But I don’t need to get them removed.”

Klaus had already taken out his phone to call Diego. “Come on. What did you do last time? Wisdom teeth are a bitch, trust me. We can get you in to an appointment quickly and then you can eat more than orange juice,” he said. 

“I didn’t do anything last time,” Five said. He had a dim memory of his jaw bothering him in the apocalypse, but it faded with other pains of the time like almost starving or freezing to death. “It’s not like I could call up the dentist.”

Klaus frowned. 

“I was fine before. I’ll be fine now,” Five said. 

“But you were in pain,” Klaus said. He sounded more serious than Five anticipated. 

“So?” Five said, but his voice shook. Five was always in some sort of pain. He always had a bruise healing or a cut that needed to be stitched up or fingernails he picked until they bled or a hole in his heart that he ignored every time he recalled a conversation with Dolores. She’d always known what to say, especially when he was hurt.

_Don’t forget to breathe, darling._

Dolores was the only one he let call him darling. He drew in a breath. 

Klaus flinched. “It’s times like these that I really miss having Ben around. He’d back me up on this one. You don’t need to be in pain,” he said. 

Five choked on a laugh. “I’m always, uh I’m...”

_Just tell him._

“I’m scared,” Five said, breathlessly. His jaw radiated with pain. 

Klaus’s expression softened. “Of the dentist?”

“Shut up,” Five muttered. 

Klaus took Five’s face in his hands, gently, but Five still felt himself twitch against the touch. “You won’t feel a thing. They numb you through it. It’s quick. We’ll make sure you get back home without slipping on the ice and breaking something. You get back and rest for a few days. I’ll buy you some pudding cups and instant mashed potatoes and make sure you rinse with the saltwater and whatnot.”

Five held his breath. 

“Let me call Diego. It’ll be okay,” Klaus said. He looked calmer than usual, confident and older with his sage advice. Though, maybe it was the sobriety. 

“Okay,” Five said. 

***

The initial appointment was brief. Five’s wisdom teeth did indeed need to be removed and they set another appointment to do so. The whole week before Five subsisted on smoothies, soups, and the occasional slice of un-toasted bread. 

He stayed up late, pacing as he usually did, and working on new training practices for Vanya and dabbling in various time travel paradoxes. It helped him to have a project. Dolores always said he worked too hard. The night before the appointment, though, he had more nervous energy than intellectual energy. There was a knock on the door. 

“Klaus?”

Klaus looked disheveled, and tired. He was holding two mugs of tea. “Couldn’t sleep,” he said, by way of explanation. “Can I join you?”

Five sighed and opened the door wider to let his brother in. 

“I get these horrible nightmares where Dave’s dying again and I—well you don’t need to hear all the gory little details, I’m sure,” Klaus said. He set Five’s tea on his desk and took a seat on his bed with his own mug. 

Five thought about how his mouth was going to bleed. He’d been covered in enough blood not to be squeamish, but blood covered dental gauze struck him as strangely similar to wartime bandages. At a certain point the blood would soak through, and the best one could do was pile on more until there was more white than red. If that was even possible. 

“You know I’m jealous of you. I could use that anesthesia right about now. Maybe I should stop brushing my teeth and see what legal drugs I can get my hands on.”

“You’ve been doing really well,” Five said, tightly. He attempted a sip of his tea, but burned his tongue. 

Klaus leaned his head to one side. “I know. I was kidding.”

_Ask him about his nightmare._ Dolores said, in the back of his head. 

“Honey, I’m not going to—“ he stopped, suddenly aware that he’d just begun to respond to her out loud. 

Klaus blinked. “Who are you talking to?” 

“I uh, hear Dolores sometimes. I know she’s gone but in my head she uh...I—how often do you have those nightmares?”

“ _Honey..._ I didn’t peg you as such a romantic, Five. I knew you weren’t talking to little old me, though that would be kind of sweet. And here I thought I had the monopoly on talking to people who aren’t here.”

Five was grateful that Klaus had at least put Dolores in the category of person. Five knew that she wasn’t, in the strictest sense of the word. But she still felt like something other than himself. She’d existed in his head long enough to have an identify of her own, even if it was all just made up. 

“If you’re going to make fun of me you can go back to your own room,” Five said. He sounded petty, like when they were kids, but his jaw ached too much for him to care. 

“Fine, fine. I have nightmares most nights, but they aren’t usually that bad,” Klaus said. He looked Five up and down, dark eyes shifting in the cunning way they always did. “I don’t care if you talk to yourself, by the way. It’s better than not talking at all,” he said.

Five had nightmares, but they weren’t a nightly occurrence. And if they were bad, well, he didn’t need much sleep anyway. 

“I’m sorry,” Five said. “Is there anything I can do?”

Klaus shrugged. “Take me back to the 60s?”

They sat in silence for a moment. 

“Do you think Dolores would have liked me?” Klaus said, and Five thought he was joking before he took in the serious expression on his brother’s face. 

“Yes,” he said, startled. “Who doesn’t like you, Klaus?”

Klaus laughed. “Plenty of people.”

“Well, yes, I mean...I mean yes. She’d have loved you,” he said, stumbling over his words. Expressions of affection didn’t come easily to him, though he’d always thought it was obvious how much he loved Klaus, loved all of his siblings. How else would he have gotten back here?

“I think Dave would have gotten a kick out of you, out of all of us, but you especially,” Klaus said. 

Five wasn’t sure whether to take that as an insult or compliment, but he didn’t ask him to clarify. 

Klaus rubbed a hand over his face. “I should try to sleep, I guess,” he said. “Big day tomorrow.”

Five scowled. Klaus patted him on shoulder as he left. 

“Good talk,” Klaus said. 

“Whatever.”

***

Klaus’s most prevalent worry was that Five would try to use his powers after the surgery, when he was groggy and out of it, and end up somewhere he shouldn’t be. Though, he thought, that was probably the worst thing that could happen, and he and Diego could always go out and find Five, if the need arose. 

“Would you stop twitching?” Diego said. They were sitting side by side in the waiting room. Diego was flipping through an old copy of Golf Digest and Klaus was bouncing his knee nervously and involuntarily. 

“He looked freaked out when he went in,” Klaus said. Five had stuck his hands deep in his pockets to hide the way they were shaking. Klaus knew that move; he’d invented that move when he first started mixing pills without checking the side effects.

Diego put down the magazine and gave Klaus a withering look. “Look, I know you’re kind of new to this protective, responsible adult thing, but he’s going to be fine. It’s wisdom teeth for God’s sake.”

“You never got yours out,” Klaus countered. 

“I don’t go to the dentist anymore,” Diego said. “I can take care of my own damn teeth.”

“Okay, Mr. Three Root Canals,” Klaus said. 

Diego rolled his eyes. “What do you think he’s going to say?”

“Say?”

“When he’s done. People are always loopy after they get their wisdom teeth out. I’ve seen like a dozen YouTube videos about it.”

Klaus nodded, slowly. “What are you expecting? All of his secrets?”

Diego picked up the magazine. “I told Allison I’d take videos,” he said. 

They brought Five out 20 minutes later. His face was swollen and his cheeks were stuffed with gauze. He looked at Diego and Klaus with unfocused surprise and attempted a smile. Klaus held back his laughter. 

He really did look 14. Klaus remembered, then, that despite his severity Five could look really goofy sometimes, when they were young. Like when Allison was beating him at chess, and his face would contort through a myriad of emotions that made him look like a struggling cartoon character. 

The dental hygienist explained all the after care procedures to Diego while Klaus coaxed Five into a seat. 

“My teeth are gone,” Five said, muffled around a mouthful of gauze. 

“Uh, huh,” Klaus said. “You did it. Do you remember?” 

Five shook his head, then winced at the motion. “Klaus?”

“Yeah?”

“What year is it?” Five asked. 

“It’s 2020, buddy,” Klaus said. He hoped the truth wouldn’t confuse Five too much, as under normal circumstances he wouldn’t be in his teenage body in 2020. 

Five blinked at him. “So I got home in time? The world didn’t end?”

“I’m pretty sure we wouldn’t be at the dentist if the world had ended,” Klaus said, seriously. Five glanced around at their surroundings and nodded. Then, as if entirely drained from their brief conversation, he slumped in his chair, leaning his head gingerly on Klaus’s shoulder. 

“Don’t move,” he muttered. 

“Aye aye, captain,” Klaus said. 

Diego came back with a brochure. Klaus helped Five into his coat and wrapped a scarf around his neck as Five peered at both brothers grumpily.

“See, now he looks like an old man,” Diego said, as they each took one of Five’s arms and helped him up. He was hunched, slightly, still drowsy and unsteady. His swollen cheek made him look a little like a kicked puppy. 

“Shut up,” Five managed. He turned to Klaus. “Is it snowing?”

“It started up again while you were in there,” Klaus said. 

“Stop talking. You’ll fuck up the gauze,” Diego said. 

“ _Stop talking nonsense Number 5. Get your pea-brain out of the clouds_ ,” Five said, in a startlingly spot on imitation of Reginald Hargreeves.

Diego opened the door and Klaus glanced over at him. “If Five’s pea-brained than what are we?” 

That really set Five off, because he started laughing harder than Klaus had ever seen him laugh, so much that Klaus was worried he’d choke on the gauze or his own spit. 

“Great, now you’ve done it,” Diego said, gripping Five tighter when he started to slip on the icy concrete. “Why don’t they salt this sidewalk?” 

Five was continuing his impression of Reggie, this time with his scowl and a widening of his left eye in imitation of Dad’s monocle. 

“ _Indeed, Number 2_ ,” he said, accent exaggerated and garbled. “Christ,” he said, breaking from the caricature. “My mouth feels really weird.” 

“Stop talking then,” Diego said. He unlocked the van. Five attempted to climb into the backseat but leaned precariously to one side, nearly falling before Diego put his hands at Five’s waist and steadied him. 

Five turned back to him and in a tone that indicated he was sincere, but still thoroughly zoinked on anesthesia, said: “You’re a really good brother, Diego.”

“Uh, thanks,” Diego said. Klaus watched him flush as Five struggled with his seatbelt. 

Klaus got into the backseat beside Five and helped him with the buckle. Diego got in the driver’s seat, ignoring the wink Klaus threw his way. 

“Where are we going?” Five asked. 

“Home,” Klaus said. 

“Home’s boring. Can we get coffee?” Five said. He turned to look at Klaus with damp eyes. Klaus could see the bloody gauze when he spoke, and somehow his cheek looked even more swollen than in the dentist’s office. 

“You’re not going to want coffee right now,” Klaus said. 

“What about one of the sweet ones with the whipped cream and caramel? Dolores loves those,” he said. He looked out the window like he didn’t know where he was.

“Does she?” Klaus said. He caught Diego looking at him in the rear view mirror. 

“She likes anything sweet,” he said. “We could go swimming?”

“It’s December,” Diego said. 

“Of 2020,” Five said, thoughtfully. 

“I didn’t know you liked swimming,” Klaus said. 

“I like feeling like a fish,” he said, dreamily. “Why’s all this stuff in my mouth?”

“The dentist removed your wisdom teeth. That’s gauze to help with the bleeding,” Klaus said. Five looked at him like he had two heads. 

“Where are we going?” he said. 

“We’re going home, Five,” Klaus repeated. 

“Right,” he said. He leaned back in his seat and stared at the ceiling. “Thanks for making me do this,” he said. He didn’t look at Klaus. Klaus watched his eyes blink slowly, long lashes still dotted with stray flakes of snow. His nose was running from the cold. 

“I...uh, you’re welcome,” Klaus said. “You just looked like you were in a lot of pain.”

“Sometimes I forget my body,” Five said, so quiet it was almost a whisper. “Like it goes numb. And it’s not mine anymore.”

“Well, the anesthesia is numbing your lip still,” Klaus said, slowly. 

“Not that. I mean all the time. And when it happens I forget that when you’re in pain you’re supposed to do something about it. It’s scary,” he said. 

Klaus remembered when Five first came through the portal, back to them. He remembered how small he’d looked in his adult clothes, and how it all seemed like some sort of dream. Of course, Klaus had been high at the time, so there was the ever present sedated, dreamlike trance of being outside himself. 

Five had barely looked at them. He had a job to do, and when the apocalypse was imminent and you were the only one who could stop it , Klaus supposed it was easy to forget yourself completely. 

“It’s like time travel scrambles your brain,” Five said. “When I got back I didn’t really feel right.”

Klaus nodded. He remembered the motion-sickness, and the lasting unease. Though, he suspected Five was talking about something deeper. 

It reminded Klaus of growing up, when the hoards of ghosts were thick and terrifying and it was hard to differentiate the bounds of his mortal body from the spectral forms that were always within reach. He remembered being locked in the mausoleum and staring at his hands for hours, trying to figure out whether or not he was a ghost too. 

And the feeling had returned when he got back from the 60s, with sobriety and without Dave. 

“And now?” Klaus said. This wasn’t the conversation to have with a loopy, disoriented Five, but he figured it might be the only time they’d have it.

Five was quiet for a long time. Klaus nearly repeated himself. “I still don’t feel right,” he said, finally. “But maybe it’s because the dentist pulled all the wisdom out of my mouth,” he said. He grinned wildly and even Diego laughed. 

***

The pain came back quickly. It was strong enough for Five to remember that he needed to tell Klaus to get him some of the pain pills the dentist had given them. 

When the bleeding stopped, and the gauze was out of his mouth, Klaus brought him an ice pack, glass of water, and two pills. 

“Are you going to be okay with those around?” Five said. His jaw was stiff. 

Klaus looked down at the pills and shrugged. “I gave them to Diego to hold on to. Plus the bottle’s child locked,” he said, with a wry smile. 

Five rolled his eyes but accepted the medicine and ice. He pressed the ice pack to where it hurt the most and relaxed into the numbness that followed. 

Klaus sat down in his desk chair. “Everyone’s coming over to watch a movie if you’re up for it. Allison’s picking up some soup. And I can grab you a pudding cup whenever you get hungry,” he said. 

Five nodded, trying to focus. He was tired. Somehow his whole body was. His eyelids drooped.

“How are you feeling?” Klaus said. Five looked at him. His brother looked anxious. He was picking at a hangnail and his posture was tight. 

“I’m fine,” he said, repositioning the ice pack. 

“Do you remember anything?”

Five considered. “I remember the dentist asking me to count down from ten. And I remember doing a really good impression of Dad,” he said. 

“How about all that existential stuff you said in the van?” Klaus asked. 

Five felt his face heating up. “Not really. What did I say?”

Klaus shook his head. “It’s—I just wanted to say that I felt the same way sometimes,” he said. 

Five held his breath. 

“You were talking about not feeling right in your body, and numb,” Klaus said. 

“Oh,” Five said. 

“I feel that way uh,” Klaus cleared his thought. Klaus never looked embarrassed, but he did now. “Dave grounded me, I think. I felt, um, like I deserved to exist when I was with him and when he died and when I got back I—well I’ve never felt _right_ exactly. I’ve always felt like there was too much background noise for me to feel at home in my body, and Dad was always so adamant that I was just a vessel for my powers that I...I don’t know. And the drugs didn’t make me feel like myself. So, Christ this is hard to say. I get it, I guess. That’s what I’m trying to say. I think we’re a lot alike sometimes,” he said. 

Five didn’t know what to say. He stared. 

_Say something, darling..._

Dolores was always pushing him, reminding him to breathe and eat and wash his face, urging him to express himself when he’d rather lock his room and hide, telling him when he was bruised or bleeding. Five imagined that that was what Dave was like, for Klaus, but different. 

“I didn’t realize I said that,” he choked. The pain in his mouth was easing. 

“I’m sorry,” Klaus said. He met Five’s gaze. 

“It’s okay. I just—thanks, I guess,” he said. He’d felt so alone in that feeling, the feeling of being a stranger to himself, of barely knowing how to function sometimes because he felt so wrong. The numbness was the worst. 

“I’ll get you more water,” Klaus said, scooping up Five’s empty cup. 

_Ask him._

Klaus was hurrying out the door, not looking at him. Five sat up suddenly, abandoning the ice pack on the bed. His head hurt with the motion, still sensitive from the surgery. Klaus stopped. 

“Hey, uh, what did you mean earlier when you said Dave would’ve gotten a kick out of me especially?” Five said. 

Klaus smiled. “Oh, just that you’re both fighters. He was always looking out for somebody; a lot of the the time it was me. And you’re both stubborn as hell. I think he’d like that about you. Plus, you know...” he trailed off. 

“What?” Five said. He scooped up the ice pack. It was starting to melt. 

“I’d follow either of you anywhere. No questions asked,” Klaus said. 

“Oh,” Five said. He smiled. It was effortful, given his missing teeth.

_Breathe, darling._

Five remembered to breathe. 


End file.
